


A Garden to Walk In

by cerebral_thunder



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Botany, EWE, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Harry is a botanist, M/M, draco is a healer, post—hogwarts, so many plants
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-17
Updated: 2016-08-01
Packaged: 2018-07-24 16:15:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7514873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cerebral_thunder/pseuds/cerebral_thunder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“A garden to walk in and immensity to dream in--what more could he ask? A few flowers at his feet and above him the stars.”<br/>― Victor Hugo, Les Misérables</p>
<p>Draco enters a small plant shop on Diagon Alley, looking to purchase a bouquet for his mothers birthday. What he didn't expect to find was a certain Boy Who Lived working there. Awkward first dates, domestic fluff, and a plethora of flowers ensues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Trees

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter title comes from Trees by Twenty One Pilots.  
> Special thanks to [actuallydrarry](http://actuallydrarry.tumblr.com/) for being an amazing beta! x

A bell chimed softly as he pushed open the door. He paused a moment, letting his eyes adjust from the brightness outside. The shop was dim, damp, and silent. Plants took up every spare surface, and even most of the floor. The majority of the light from the large front windows were blocked by plants of varying size and colour, and a lanky vine had claimed the space over the doorway as it’s own.

Wandering through the greenery, Draco saw a large variety of plants. Some he could recognize; the garden rose, a blue hyacinth. Others, he had never seen before. One potted plant had fragile-looking purple petals. As he watched, the flower grew in size, and the soft petals sharpened until they resembled fangs. He kept his distance from that plant in particular.

Draco continued to make his way through the stillness, the foliage rustling behind him as he went. 

He had come with a purpose. But now that he had entered he felt any noise would disrupt the sanctity of his surroundings. As he neared the back of the would-be forest, he heard quiet voices filter through the foliage, and directed his path toward them. Coming closer to the source of the voices, he could now distinguish between the two. They were both warm, low male tones, familiar to his ears. However, he couldn’t place where he knew them from. 

He heard one of them say, “I think I heard the bell, will you see if anyone’s come in?

Suddenly, a mop of messy black hair and a pair of glinting glasses rose from behind the soiled wooden counter, and Draco jumped a bit upon recognizing the man now standing before him. A harsh word was on the tip of his tongue, more from habit than anything else, but was lost before it could pass his lips. 

“Draco! Fancy seeing you. Anything I can help you with?” Harry said with a large smile. 

Slightly perturbed upon being addressed with such familiarity from his former rival, it took him a moment to gather his thoughts. 

“It’s my mother’s birthday in two days.” Draco states softly. “I was looking to purchase a plant for her garden, or at the very least a bouquet.” 

Harry’s eyes grew contemplative, and he replied, “What sort of plant or flower were you looking for? Anything in particular? We have magical and mundane plants, depending on what you need. We could also put a bouquet together for you, if that’s easier. And we can have it ready for you to pick up on your mum’s birthday.” 

Harry looked at him questioningly, and Draco just shrugged and said, “A bouquet would be fine. As long as it’s up to my standards. I can pick it up this Thursday morning.”

Harry’s attentive frown lightened into a soft smirk, and he inclined his head as he replied, “Of course.” He rummaged underneath the counter for a notepad and quill, and after taking down Draco’s name and the pickup date, raised his eyes again to meet Draco’s.

“Any particulars I should be aware of? Specific flowers you want included, forbidden colours and the like?”

Draco responded, “None, other than the inclusion of a few narcissus flowers.”

Another smile from Harry as he wrote that down. Ripping the sheet off of the notepad, he tacked it up on the wall under the corresponding pickup date. 

“You’re all set. We’ll have it ready to be picked up that morning. Is there anything else I can help you with?” Harry’s eyes flashed playful for just a moment, before being replaced by kind politeness.

Draco swiftly shook his head, and thanking Harry, took his leave. 

*`*`  
After the front door shut against the blinding flash of sunlight, Harry slowly walked to the back room of the shop where his projects stood waiting. While gently tinkering with a withering cornflower stem, he let his mind wander freely over the recent encounter with his schoolboy rival. Upon recognizing the distinguished features and pale blond hair, he had anticipated some rude comment, or some scathy sarcasm at the very least. But Draco was polite and straightforward, his voice quiet and noninvasive. _He’s changed, at least that much,_ Harry thought. _Maybe…_

“Harry!”

The shout startled him out of his thoughts, causing him to accidentally snap the stem on the poor cornflower. He sighed, as Neville walked in from the greenhouse attached to the back of the store, covered head to toe in soil and various bits and leaves. 

“Who just came in? Did they get anything? Oh….” Seeing the cornflower, Neville looked dismayed.

Harry just shook his head and replied, “It was a lost cause anyway. No worries, Neville.” 

After sweeping up the remains of the flower into his hands, Harry continued, “And it was Draco Malfoy. He was here to order a bouquet for his mum’s birthday.” 

Discarding the flower with his back turned, Harry missed the knowing smirk on Neville’s face. When Harry turned back around, Neville asked, “So did you ask him to dinner?” 

Blushing Gryffindor scarlet, Harry violently shook his head. “He was here on business! I couldn’t…. I couldn’t just ask him like that. We haven’t talked to each other since we graduated.” 

Harry leaned back against his workbench, his face in his hands. “You know I want to, Neville. But I want to do it properly. It’s _Malfoy._ I can’t just go up to him and say ‘Hey, let's go get a pint this Friday.’ We were enemies, we hated each other. Or at least, he hated me. I just don’t want to screw this up.”

Neville strode over to where Harry was leaning, and put his arm around Harry’s shoulder. “I know, mate. But you haven’t seen anyone since you and Ginny split at Hogwarts, and I don’t like seeing you living as a loner. You spend all your time here at the shop, and even _I’m_ not around all the time. And I know how much you like him. I don’t want you regretting never taking that first step, you know?” 

Harry nodded into his hands, and sighed, “Yeah, I know. I’ve thought about what it would be like to… you know, date him… and I really want to. You’ve heard me talk about him enough. But it’s like, whenever I see him in Diagon Alley or anywhere else, I chicken out.” 

Neville tightened his one-armed grip on Harry’s shoulders. “You’re a bloody Gryffindor, mate. You’ve got to at least try. And from what I’ve heard, he’s changed a lot since Hogwarts. Ask him out to lunch, or a pint, when he comes in to pick up his mum’s flowers. The worst he can do is say no.”

Harry was quiet for a long moment, and then he sighed heavily and straightened up. “Yeah, you’re right. I can’t stand not knowing anymore.” He turned to Neville and gave a small smile. “Thanks, mate.” 

Neville returned the smile, and replied, “No problem.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was beta-ed by the wonderfully marvelous actuallydrarry. A huge thanks to her!! x

The faint light of false dawn was rising over the rooftops when Harry’s alarm sounded. With a quiet groan, he reached out and lightly tapped his alarm clock, silencing it. He rubbed his still shut eyes, thinking he had time for another 15 minutes of rest. 

Abruptly, his tired mind remembered that today was, in fact, Thursday. His green eyes snapped open, sudden nerves dispelling the last of his lingering fatigue. He was going to see Draco again today. And talk to him. And ask him to dinner. Harry’s heart sped up a bit at that last thought. Why did he think this was a good idea? He must be bonkers. 

Shaking his head, he swung his legs out from under the comforter. He shivered slightly as his feet hit the chilled wooden floor. His bedroom was still quite dim, and it took him a moment to find the light switch. His heart was still beating a tad too fast, so he took a few turns around his now-lit room to try to shake off his nerves. _He was seeing Draco today._

Still possessed with nervous energy, he started to rummage through his closet. The shop didn’t really have any rules regarding uniform. Harry usually ended up wearing stained jeans and a plain t-shirt. He tended to get rather dirty when working, so he preferred to dress casually. Today, however, was a special day. So he grabbed a newer t-shirt and an unstained pair of dark wash jeans. While still pulling his t-shirt over his head, he walked over to the bathroom. His hair was predictably a nightmare. He knew trying to tame it was a lost cause, but he tried hard to anyway. _He was seeing Draco today. ___

After his hair had calmed down considerably, he grabbed his wand and leapt down the stairs two at a time. Arriving at the kitchen, he waved his wand haphazardly towards the kettle. Instead of landing in the sink, it flew straight across the room and hit the opposite wall with a very loud bang. Harry sighed, and went to retrieve the now slightly dented kettle. After filling the kettle with water, he set it on the stove and lit the burner. While the water heated, he stuck a piece of bread in the toaster and resumed his nervous pacing.

A moment later, the toast popped up and the kettle started to whistle softly. Grabbing a mug and teabag from a cupboard, Harry began to fix his tea. Tea and toast was a small breakfast, even by Harry’s standards. Although he preferred a small breakfast and a large lunch, his breakfasts usually consisted of more than toast. Today, however, nerves were curbing his appetite. _He was seeing Draco today. ___

The sun climbed steadily over the rooftops, and the little squares of light on the walls were slowly sliding downward. Not waiting for his tea to cool, Harry took several scalding gulps between bites of toast. The store didn’t open for a few more hours, and Neville wouldn’t be there until opening time. Harry wanted to get there as early as possible, giving him plenty of time to put together Narcissa’s bouquet. He knew the bouquet was for Narcissa, and he wanted to make it as amazing as he could. But somewhere in his mind, he knew he was trying to impress Draco with the bouquet, as well.

Stuffing the last bite of toast into his mouth, Harry walked swiftly over to the door. His dark, worn leather jacket hung on a hook above his shoes. He pulled his jacket on and slid his shoes on simultaneously. Although it was still only September, and the afternoons were warm, the London mornings were still chilled with mist. He hurried out the door, fumbling with the keys in his haste. _He was seeing Draco today. ___

Down the concrete steps he went, through the wards, and onto the sidewalk. He knew he could Apparate to the shop, or even Floo. But a certain motorcycle, sitting under a canvas cover, was his preferred mode of transportation. After Hagrid crashed it into the Tonks’ pond, it had stayed there for the rest of that year. After the Battle of Hogwarts, Harry had gone back to retrieve it. With Arthur Weasley’s enthusiasm and Hermione’s book smarts, they were able to get it running again. Along with the leather jacket, the motorcycle helped Harry to feel close to his godfather.

Harry pulled off the canvas cover and folded it into one of the saddlebags hanging on either side of the seat. By now the sun had started to rise over the horizon, and true dawn reflected off the surrounding buildings. Facing the rising sun, Harry took a deep breath. His nerves were replaced with a small, but bright, ray of hope. _He was seeing Draco today._ And he would face the day bravely.

***

Harry heard the rattle of keys in the front door. A glance at his watch told him it was opening time, which meant Neville would be walking in shortly. Harry had been at the shop for about two hours already, and had completed all but one of the orders for the day. Narcissa’s bouquet sat waiting on his workbench, as perfect as Harry could get it. Near the bouquet was a small pile of flowers with snapped stems that Harry, in his nervous state, had accidentally broken over the course of the morning. 

Harry heard Neville call from the front of the store. “Harry? You here, mate?” 

“Of course I’m here.” Harry called back, while walking out of the backroom. “When was the last time you were here before me?”

He heard Neville laugh, “Last week, when you decided to sleep in until noon and let me handle all of the orders.”

Harry met Neville at the front counter, and said in mock outrage, ”That’s because you got me pissed the night before! You try getting up for work with a hangover like that.”

Neville laughed again, “Well, next time don’t try to match Ron’s shots. You know you’ll never beat him. It’s your fault for taking his bet.”

At that, Harry grumbled something about “I’ll beat him one day” and Neville’s smile grew wider. 

“Speaking of getting pissed, how are you gonna ask Draco out to the pub?” Neville asked.

Harry groaned a little, and slid his hand over his eyes. “I don’t know, mate. I’ve been so nervous about talking to him, I haven’t figured out what the hell I want to say.”

Harry looked up at Neville desperately. Neville clapped a hand on his shoulder, and said, “I understand. Tell you what. I’ll mind the counter this morning until Malfoy comes. You can stay in the back, tend the greenhouse and think on what you want to say. When Malfoy comes in, I’ll come get you.”

At that, Harry relaxed a little, and said gratefully, “That sounds great. Thanks, Neville.”

Neville smiled back at him, and replied, “No problem, mate. It took me years to get up the nerve to tell Luna how I felt. And she wasn’t my former enemy.”

***

A few hours later, the bell above the front door rang through the shop. Harry, who was tending to the greenhouse plants in the back of the store, stilled when he heard the it. He listened as closely as he could, trying to make out the voices. His heart rate had picked up again, as it had all morning whenever the bell had rung. He hung up the hose he had been using, and made his way over to his workbench. He could hear the conversation much better from there.

After a moment, Harry heard Neville say, “Yep, it’s ready. I’m not sure where Harry put it though, I’ll get him and have him bring it out.”

Neville rounded the corner, almost running into Harry. Harry looked at Neville questioningly, and Neville smiled and said, “He’s here. Time to win his heart.” 

Suddenly full of nerves, it took Harry a moment before he could grab the bouquet. Holding it firmly, he took a deep breath. He felt Neville give him a little shove, took one more breath, and then he walked briskly out of the backroom. 

Draco was standing by the front counter, dressed in simple black robes that contrasted strongly with his pale skin. Harry could feel his stomach flutter a bit at the sight. Draco held himself proudly, but without any haughtiness. When Harry entered, Draco looked up and his eyes widened a small fraction upon seeing the bouquet. 

The bouquet itself was spectacular, and Harry considered it his best work yet. Dainty white narcissus flowers peeked out from behind blue hydrangeas and purple dahlias. A smattering of cornflowers and baby’s breath mingled throughout. The green foliage surrounding the flowers was edged with silver, throwing dancing flecks of light across the petals. The entire work was housed in a simple white vase with silver filigree. 

Placing the bouquet on the counter in front of Draco, Harry said simply, “Morning, Draco.”

Draco ran the silver edging through his forefinger and thumb, and replied, “Good morning, Potter. I believe you’ve outdone yourself. Mother will be pleased.”

The compliment caused Harry to grin shyly. “It was a lot of work. I’m glad you like it.”

Draco nodded, and looking up, asked, “How much do I owe you for it?”

Still smiling, Harry replied, “7 Sickles is all.”

Draco’s eyebrows furrowed slightly in suspicion, and he asked, “Why such a cheap price?”

Harry shrugged and replied, “It’s what it’s worth. It’s not large enough to warrant a higher price. And, well, I owe your mother a favor. I suppose this is my way of trying to pay it back, at least partially.”

Draco’s silver eyes met Harry’s green ones for a moment longer, and then Draco shrugged slightly. “You Gryffindors have odd ways of repaying debts.” He pulled the coins out of his pocket and placed them on the counter. “Good day, Potter.”

Taking the bouquet in his arms, Draco turned to leave. Before he had gone a few steps, however, Harry called him back.

“Draco! Wait, um.” Draco’s piercing grey eyes met Harry’s again, and every eloquent entreaty Harry had thought up previously deserted him. Instead, he stuttered out, “Did you um, want to maybe get a pint with me tomorrow night?”

Draco raised one eyebrow, but neither answered nor broke his gaze. Afraid his courage would leave him, Harry continued, “I know a Muggle pub, in downtown London. Small, not too loud. We wouldn’t be recognized or, um, or followed.”

Draco raised his other eyebrow, and his expression caused Harry to stutter into silence. Shifting the bouquet in his arms, Draco dropped his gaze and spoke quietly. “I don’t know what you’re playing at, Potter. I don’t need your pity. I don’t need your help. And I’m sure it would look very poorly indeed for the Saviour of the Wizarding World to be seen consorting with a Death Eater. And so, as eloquent as your request was, I’m afraid I must decline it. Good day, Potter.”

Harry watched, unable to say anything more, as Draco turned away and walked briskly toward the front door. The door snapped shut against the bright sunlight from the street, and all of Harry’s energy seemed to leave him at once. He felt drained and disheartened. He knew Neville was waiting patiently in the greenhouse to hear the verdict. And so, with shuffling feet and his head low, Harry made his way slowly to the backroom, dreading the look on Neville’s face when he heard.


End file.
